If you believe the British media, the entire country is going down the tubes - descending into some Orwellian nightmare of disaffected youth and twitchy police. Barely a day passes without some ASBO-toting hooligan appearing in the papers for whatever reason, and the law either impotent to the threat or zealously going after honest Britishers out doing their normal business. But seeing as I don't read the Daily Mail, things at my end aren't too bad. The local gangs where I live are sweater-over-the-shoulder, rugby playing, public school oiks - although the other week I was in Threshers buying some cooking lager when three of them burst in and grabbed a case of wine each before running off. Maybe nowhere is safe these days.
**Old man phrase alert** - When I were a lad, it was all different of course. We used to badger police officers for 'Coppa Cards' - naively produced by the Lancashire Constabulary in a timid attempt to cash in on the 'kids will collect anything' mentality. From what I remember they had pictures of police incidents and a description, although they were tame stuff like the consequences of parking on double yellows - they might have lasted longer had they featured things like 'No.4...PC Bloggs looks for Timmy's head in a railway siding - JUST SAY NO TO TRAINSURFING KIDS!!!'. In reality, I think I got one or two before talking to policemen became as naff as wearing Grolsch bottle tops on your shoes, and that was that. Anyway - trainsurfing, happy slapping, tombstoning and the like were unheard of in Preston in the 1980's. Eating three Wham Bars and drinking Tizer in one sitting was as dangerous as it got for us.
It was four years ago in Hungary where I had my only serious run in with the local authorities, when I was fined for fare-dodging by the Budapest Transit Police. Of course, it wasn't my fault - but the only Hungarian word I knew was 'Gyalogosforgalom', which means 'Pedestrian access', so that didn't help me much. Tourists there can buy a Budapest Card which gives you free entry to attractions, and free use of all public transport for 24hrs. As such, they start at an allotted time of your choosing - so we picked 12noon, and left the tourist info and hopped on a train.
The Metro in Budapest is great, old and rickety with mosaics and pillars in the stations. We were only going a short distance - down to the banks of the Danube to check out boat trips up the river, so got off at Vorosmaty Ter and handed the cards to an armed (and stern-looking) woman in a grey uniform, complete with peaked cap and red armband with the letters BKV on it. She immediately motioned for us to move to one side and wait - "Is problem", she said. So we stood as the other passengers filed past, giving us cheeky grins - everyone hates tourists, after all. Eventually the woman came up to us and pointed at her watch. "Ticket starts at 12. Is not 12 yet.". I looked at my watch. I'm not making this up - the time was 11:58am.
"You're kidding. This is a joke, right?" I protested, as she reached - past her gun - for an officious looking notepad. "Is not 12. Ticket is not valid" she said. By now the station was completely empty, but there wasn't much I could do. I decided to play the dumb foreigner. "The woman at the tourist information said ticket was OK", I told her, with a cheery expression. She looked back with a stare that could have frozen the Danube all the way to Vienna. "Ticket is not valid. You break rules - so you get penalty". Oh crap, how much is this going to cost? Another train pulled in, and passengers got off and walked past us, to a person looking at the dimwits getting a fine.
Of course, by this time it was after 12. "It's after 12 now", I said hopefully. "Got any Coppa Cards?" - I was clearly desperate. She ripped off a ticket and handed it to me. "You sign". So I signed. She then put both copies back into a black leather wallet and put the notebook back into her pocket. "Penalty is 2000 Florints each. You must pay this now". She was obviously enjoying this, and tweaked the brim of her cap, drawing herself up to her full 5ft height. 'I could push her over the platform edge - there's nobody else here...' I thought, but in reality I just got out my wallet and meekly handed over HF4,000 - which I later worked out was only £9 (US$16). She took the money and grimaced at me again. I turned towards the station exit. "Gyalogosforgalom" I said to her as we left, and for the first time, she looked unsure of herself.
